


The 0/1 Variable

by lysanatt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Castiel/Dean - Freeform, First Time, M/M, Mild elements of D/S, Romance, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2315894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysanatt/pseuds/lysanatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By definition, a binary variable is a flavor of categorical variable, a response measure with only two possible values. It's like that when white-hat hacker Sam Winchester meets Lucifer, a high-profile security expert, at a New Year's Eve party. It's black or white, 1 or 0, yes or no. There is nothing in between, nothing gray about it, no decimals, no <i>maybe</i>. Sam takes everything Lucifer offers, or nothing at all. Chained and balled by the NSA, Sam knows that the answer should be an easy no, nothing, zero, but Sam never really did <i>easy</i>. And, clearly, neither does Lucifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 0/1 Variable

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to tsuki-chibi @ tumblr for a great beta job.

**The 0/1 Variable**

Sam shut down the computer with an annoyed sigh. He didn't have _time_ for this shit. He hadn't had a day off over Christmas, and he refused to let work take over yet another chunk of his precious time. Well, it wasn't his boss who was to blame, Crowley could be a mean asshole, but for once it wasn't Crowley's fault. No, this time it was _Trident_. 

Again.

Sam grabbed his phone and typed a quick message to Kevin and Garth, his co-workers. Not that it was necessary; Kevin and Garth had used their afternoon at the office, trying to shut Trident down and they were watching the servers as eagerly as Sam had done. Trident was going _down_ , not so much for messing with the servers, but for messing with the servers at a time when Sam was doing something else, something he _wanted_ to do. He knew his evening was relatively safe, though: Charlie had promised to take over if Garth and Kevin couldn't handle it, which was about as likely as three Tuesdays in a week and snow in July. 

Sam wondered whether Trident didn't have anything sensible to do on a New Year's evening. It was, in Sam's humble opinion, the true sign of a loser to black-hat one's way into government networks on a day where one should be with friends or family, or at least be doing something as relaxing as to lie on the couch, watching old movies. Sam and his crew of programmers had led the dangerous part of Trident's attack into a server honeypot where he could use his entire day, alone, puttering around in useless parts of the network, collecting useless fake data while they attempted to collect very useful data about Trident. Sam was grateful that his nerd herd had been annoyed enough to take over for him, ready to whack the intruder over the head with some heavyweight weaponry (if only made from bits and bytes), should Trident make another, more determined attempt before Sam was back from the party.

"Fuck you, Trident, and the horse you rode in on," Sam growled, looking at the clock. 

Sam conveniently forgot that Trident did nothing but what Sam had done a few years before. Black-hat hacking had earned Sam a job with NSA and the _Perfect Citizen_ project instead of a number of years in jail, not that Sam cared much about NSA. The so-called job offer had been pure blackmail. Why NSA wanted him was still an enigma to Sam; he gathered it was a question of 'better the enemy you know', and the polygraph test they exposed him to before they let him in ensured that they did. If Sam had ever thought that Dean was a possessive big brother, he'd rescinded that notion long ago. Dean was a rank amateur compared to the NSA. Anyway, Sam liked to stay out of prison and it had been either NSA and nine to five, or prison and five to ten. Definitely an offer he couldn't refuse. NSA hadn't been high on consent, they just wanted what Sam had. They had it for one more year, and then Sam would be free to go. Only good thing about the mess, apart from staying out of prison, was that Texas and Austin had grown on him. Cas and Dean and their uncle Bobby living close by didn't make it worse. 

Still, working for the NSA hadn't made Sam forget the rush of breaking and entering. Oh, Sam knew what drove black hat hackers such as Trident to hack into government networks. It was what had put Sam in trouble to begin with: like Trident, Sam had had difficulties resisting the allure of a cracked government server and the things he could do with the information he released from its wardens. Only Trident's arrogance had climbed heights that Sam's had never even been close to reaching. 

At least Sam hadn't had the audacity to sign his attacks, like Trident. His own handle — Wesson — was well-known in hacker circles, but he'd never used it in connection with his black hat activities, of course he hadn't. He wasn't stupid. From his binary run-ins with Trident Sam knew that Trident — whoever he was — was far from stupid as well and that meant only one thing: they were being mocked, it was as simple as that. Trident usually hid his signature in a one-pixel .jpg file and today was no exception. The guy was a self-important, pompous idiot, so sure they'd never get him. But Trident was a very clever idiot, Sam had to admit. Today, brute force attempts covered for more subtle approaches, and DDoS botnet attacks kept the systems slow and sluggish, forcing Sam's team into a fight that needed several defense lines. Sam swore angrily as the system detected a smurfing, checking again on his laptop that their routers were ignoring broadcast addressing. Despite the noob smurf attack, Trident knew what he was doing, and he was good at it. If they had left even the smallest opening anywhere, Trident would find it. 

Hunting Trident was like hunting ghosts and shadows. He was almost better than Sam.

Almost.

And that 'almost' was what would make Trident step into one of the traps that Sam set for him - or her. Although Sam was sure that if Trident had been a woman, she'd be pwning his server by now, if Charlie's hacking abilities were a pointer to what the female segment of black hat hackers could do. Trident was cocky enough to try to get his hands on NSA's pet project, and Sam wasn't going to let him. Contrary to some of the shit NSA pulled, the project that Sam was hired to code, protect, and test made sense. Development of sensitive control system monitors that would keep electricity and power grids up and running after a cyber attack — or better, prevent it — appealed to Sam. Although he disliked working for the enemy, he was sort of in on this one, enough to kick Trident's ass as frequently as he possibly could keeping the bastard off their bits and bytes. This wasn't just about NSA. It was personal. Trident had pissed Sam off, and Sam would make sure Trident got to feel the brunt of his annoyance.

With that thought pleasantly lingering, Sam grabbed a fresh towel and a pair of black boxer-briefs and went to shower. _He_ , at least, didn't want to look or smell like someone who'd just used twelve hours, fighting the apocalypse on a battlefield made up of bits and bytes. He had exactly forty-five minutes before he had to be at Dean's, dressed nicely and ready to socialize with real people.

*

Only ten minutes late, Sam made his round, greeting the handful of people who had arrived for their New Year's celebration. Sam didn't celebrate Christmas. It was too painful, memories of their failed childhood still too clear. Sam preferred it to be just the three of them for Christmas, Cas, Dean and he — nothing but a quiet dinner with none of the traditional trimmings to go with it. But Dean had claimed New Year's eve as his, and now the small party had become a tradition. Usually their uncle Bobby and his girlfriend Jody joined them, together with their friends Jo and Ellen.

"How's military history this time of year?" Sam asked and took the drink Castiel offered him. "Thanks. Saw your new book in the bookstore the other day."

Castiel raised his glass, glaring at the orange fluid suspiciously. "Dean's invention. The drink, I mean. Not the book. My publisher was kind enough to pretend that the holidays would be the perfect time to publish it, sales-wise. Because nothing says _Happy Holidays_ like five-hundred pages about Luftwaffe bomber planes with particular attention paid to the Junker Ju 88." Castiel smiled, and shrugged apologetically. 

Sam ignored Castiel's slight dismissal of the book he'd written. Sam knew that everybody remotely interested in World War II looked forward to the next tome from the renowned Professor Novak's hand. Seemed that everything with wings held a certain allure to the general public when Castiel wrote about it. He'd have had a grand career in Ornithology, too.

"There is that." Sam took a sip of the apricot-and-vodka smelling drink. "What's gotten into Dean? Last year it was beer and chips. What is this shit?"

"My brother is joining us. Dean could not be convinced that Lucifer would be able to consume beer like ordinary people. It's apricot vodka martini."

"If I ask for a beer, he'll argue that I'd rather have this because there is fruit in it, right?" Sam stared at the sweet-smelling the drink again. He caught Ellen's eyes. She wasn't impressed, either. 

"I ain't drinking this," Bobby said gruffly as he passed them, putting down his glass on the dining table. "I'm gonna get me some beer."

"He's got no refinement whatsoever." Dean grinned and wrapped his arm around Cas. He looked at the glass he was carrying. "I admit it, it's awful." He turned his head over his shoulder and shouted at Bobby's back, "And thanks for being so polite about it, Bobby! Awesome! Not gonna invite you over ever again!" 

Bobby replied unintelligibly, probably because he had his head halfway into the fridge. The sound of clinking bottles announced that Bobby had indeed struck gold. 

"Why all the fuss?" Sam wanted to know. "It's because of your brother?" Castiel didn't speak of his family very often, and when he did, he rarely mustered any enthusiasm about them. Sam knew Lucifer was older than Castiel, and largely an arrogant dickwad who ran a successful security business that took care of everything from surveillance to server safety. Sam had run into some of Eden Security's computer engineers at conferences, and what little he'd been able to learn about the company and their boss hadn't been positive.

"Dean is being kind. Lucifer is—" Castiel was interrupted by the door bell. "You'd think he was old enough to tell time." He shook his head and went to welcome their last guest.

Sam left his apricot-infused glass next to Bobby's and went to grab one of the artsy beers that Bobby had found in the kitchen. _Moose Drool Brown Ale_? Sam chuckled. Why not? He opened the bottle and was about to taste it, but stopped, bottle a few inches from his lips. 

Oh, _God_. 

"Close your mouth, dear," Ellen whispered. "He might be a horrible brother, but he sure looks good."

And that was putting it mildly. Perhaps not conventionally handsome, Castiel's brother was... utterly gorgeous. Sam swallowed, trying not to stare. Few men came close to Sam's size, but Lucifer _was_ close. Not as tall, but broader, a little soft around the waist, but muscular, _male_ , alpha male. Lucifer exuded confidence and arrogance. A suit that was obviously tailored to fit perfectly didn't exactly ruin the picture. 

"Sam?" Ellen elbowed him hard enough to make him gasp. 

"What?" Sam forced himself to look at Ellen. "Yes."

"Tongue, boy. You're drooling. Better stop before you embarrass yourself entirely."

"Never." Sam couldn't stop himself from laughing. He finally managed to take a swig of the beer, not because he needed the alcohol; it merely distracted him from the sight of Lucifer. He was so not going to act like a besotted idiot for a hot guy. Sam took another swig. "What's for dinner?" he asked Ellen, as if she'd been the one making it. "Smells delicious." That was true enough; the scent of roast and spices from the kitchen were making Sam hungry.

"Prime rib with asparagus and pommes Parisienne. And salmon. Not with the rib, though. Dean has been at it in the kitchen all day. Something with... pesto and basil-infused olive oil and fig balsamic glaze. Or maybe it was olive-glaze with basil-oil. At least I know what salmon is."

"Oh, so he's been adventurous with the food too? It's a far shot from the usual roast and potatoes."

"See? Now you have an excuse if you start drooling again." Ellen patted Sam on the shoulder, less than gentle. "I've heard he's single."

"Yes, thank you. And so am I — for a reason." Sam grabbed his beer, ready to escape Ellen's vague attempt to play matchmaker. He didn't get far.

"Sam, this is my brother, Lucifer." Castiel stepped in front of Sam, effectively preventing him from retreating to the other side of the room. Behind Cas, Ellen made a strategic escape. Sam sent her a pointed look. Castiel was clueless. He waved Lucifer closer. "Lucifer's in computing too. He's got his own company... I think you are familiar with it? Eden Security." 

Sam swallowed, unable to stop staring now that the man was right in front of him. "Nice to meet you. Not that I've heard much about you. Castiel doesn't talk about his family that often. I'm Sam... Sam Winchester." Sam held out his hand, determined to be polite.

"Probably a good thing. If you _knew_ what people say about me..." Lucifer whistled, smirked and took Sam's hand. "And I am _very_ pleased to meet you." The light blue eyes sparkled like frost in sunlight. "Couldn't help noticing you the moment I walked in here. You surely stand out..." Lucifer raised an eyebrow, perhaps indicating that he felt above the rest of the assembly. 

Sam opened his mouth and shut it again. Castiel's brother was overwhelming. Overwhelmingly arrogant. "Seeing that I'm 6"3, I am difficult to ignore," Sam managed, pulling his hand out of Lucifer's grip a bit too fast to be polite.

"That was not what I meant," Lucifer said, his tone soft. "I'd still have noticed you if you hadn't been the size of a small giant. I'd have noticed you anywhere. Like at the ASE Computer Security Con at Stanford in May. You spoke to some of my people. You were gone before I could find you. I would have liked to speak to you then."

"Oh," Sam managed, trying to wrap his mind around the blatant come-on and the ferocious hunger in Lucifer's eyes. Cold and arrogant, Lucifer was everything that Sam _didn't_ want. And yet he was drawn to him like a dizzy moth to a cold flame, his heart fluttering and his libido rising. Maybe it was the flicker of warmth and passion underneath the cold exterior; maybe it was that Lucifer remembered him, Sam didn't know. All he knew was that it was instant attraction. "I—"

"You would have said yes, and I'd have given you the night of your life." Lucifer smiled, a gentle, soft smile. "I promise I won't disappoint you."

Lucifer's sass was... incredible. It was almost offensive that Lucifer thought that he'd be that easy. For a few seconds, Sam wondered what Lucifer would look like, eyes wide with lust and his body stretched out on a bed, pale skin kissed damp and flushing, neck love-bitten. Would the arrogance and the superior attitude be gone by then? God, what was he thinking? He was _not_ lusting over Castiel's brother! Maybe that was what Lucifer had seen, the instant attraction, the lust and the curiosity, the adventure that Lucifer would be. Sam had to tear himself away. Before it was too late.

"I'm used to disappointment, but that doesn't make me want to reacquaint myself with it on a regular basis," Sam said, dismissing Lucifer with a shake of his head. "I really don't think it's a good idea. I don't know you." 

Lucifer looked at him calmly. "Don't you?" he inquired, the smile turning smug.

"Or maybe I just forgot you. You might not be as unforgettable as you thought." Sam nodded curtly, grabbed the beer that he had left on the table and went to find Dean, Cas, anyone who could save him from himself and from Lucifer.

Only then did he realize that he hadn't exactly said no to Lucifer.

*

Dinner was ready, Dean fussing over his creations. Cas came into the kitchen to fetch the full platters. "Go sit down," Cas demanded, platter in one hand, pulling Sam with him towards the hall. "If you will be so kind as to sit next to Lucifer; that way he has someone to talk to; not sure that Ellen or Bobby care to get a thorough walk-through of the properties of the latest Linux version, or the pros and cons of a Windows server."

"You know I can't talk about work," Sam objected, stopping into the narrow hallway between the kitchen and the dining room. "It's bad enough that you and Dean know what I'm doing for a living." Yeah, Castiel and Dean knew. Because they had been there every step of the way, from the moment that Sam had been arrested, until NSA had picked him up and made all the unpleasant threats about prison and gigantic fines go away. It had always been like that, very few secrets between them.

Cas waited for moment, ensuring that Dean was busy in the other end of the kitchen. "I can't say too much, and I know you can't tell him anything but your cover story, but Lucifer... he was close to ending up in a situation that you might recognize."

"You mean that he was..." Sam hesitated because they were venturing into dangerous waters. "Lucifer was caught in virtual places he didn't have legal access to?" Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" Lucifer didn't come off as one who'd risk anything that might tarnish his status or the polished surface of his successful enterprise. Then again, arrogance wasn't uncommon in hackers, he knew that all too well. For Sam, too, it had been arrogance, a belief that he could come and go as he pleased, sneak in through secret, virtual doors, that had him entangled in a government trap, the kind Sam was setting for others by now.

"As I said, I can't reveal anything. Just like I never told him about your activities for obvious reasons." Cas smiled, deceptively innocent. "He might choose to tell you himself. But... be careful, Sam. He's the give-an-inch-type. And he can afford better lawyers than you which is why you're with the NSA and he's not. Careful."

Sam hesitated for a moment. "Careful?" Of course he couldn't tell Lucifer what he did or speak about the black hat elite hackers he was hunting, but Sam knew his business, and what he could show was the confidence he had in himself and his abilities with a computer. Sam was elite; his black hat hacktivist team had been the best money could never buy, up there with Trident and other infamous black hats. Sam had to hide that of course; he'd have to forget exactly how good he was, instead pretending to be the run-of-the-mill competent IT-guy. Lucifer was into security, so no matter the color of Lucifer's hat, Sam had to be careful. NSA was a cruel master.

"He's not like you." Castiel closed his mouth, shook his head, indicating that he wasn't going to say more, and went to put the platter on the table.

Leaning against the door frame, Sam considered Castiel's warning. So Lucifer wasn't all that? Or rather he was definitely all that, with a dark side? Hm. Sam turned to sneak a look at Lucifer with curiosity, only to find out that Lucifer was staring at him again, the ice-blue eyes intense. This time Sam didn't get flustered. He wasn't used to people staring at him with unabashed desire, but now he was prepared for Lucifer's intensity. Instead of looking away, Sam straightened up, refusing to avert his eyes. He let a small smile slide over his lips, deliberately condescending, as if he'd read Lucifer and found something that was beneath him. Okay, so if Lucifer thought he was all the rage, Sam would gladly inform him that he was not. Sam knew it was his last line of defense, the feeble attempt to escape the attraction that made him want to explore the many-faceted enigma that was Lucifer. Sam was not going to let Lucifer have the upper hand, and he was definitely against examining too closely why it mattered at all.

The more he learned about Lucifer, the more interesting he seemed. He was Sam's match in everything, and it made Sam's stomach flutter. Lucifer was strong and powerful, and maybe, just maybe, Sam liked the idea of not being entirely in control, of being matched in everything but arrogance. Problem was that if he let go of his hard-won control, he'd be in for the ride of his life, of that he was sure. He'd never met anyone like Lucifer. Maybe he simply wasn't ready for it, or for what it meant. 

With his eyes still set on Lucifer, Sam walked across the room, satisfied with the way that Lucifer licked his lips hungrily. He wasn't the only one who was losing it, all sense be damned. "Castiel tells me that you need me for dinner," Sam purred, deliberately trying to rile Lucifer up, wanting yet another slip from him. "I'd say that you're biting off more than you can chew."

"How considerate of my brother," Lucifer said and stepped half a step too close to Sam, close enough for Sam to smell Lucifer's aftershave; a mix of pines and snow-clad forests, "to let me have a toy all of my own so that I don't get bored."

"It must be awful for you, you know, mixing with ordinary people when you could have been out with your _real_ friends," Sam taunted. "Perhaps they forgot to invite you? Again with the forgettable. You might not be as special as you might think." He didn't know what came over him, but Lucifer rubbed him the wrong way in the right way, or perhaps it was the other way around. End result was the same. It was simply too tempting. Lucifer was tempting. There was something about him that Sam couldn't stop reacting to, as if they were two halves made for each other, two halves fucked up in the process, little sharp edges grating and rubbing and making the obvious attraction painful and impossible, because they would never fit. "I wonder why? Maybe your charm simply overwhelmed them. Then again..." Sam let his eyes slide up Lucifer's body, provocatively and unashamed. "No."

Lucifer chuckled. "Castiel told me minutes ago that you would be a challenge. God, he was right. He also told me that I should keep my hands off you. But it wouldn't be half as much fun if I did what he asked me. Or if you just gave in right away, my _dear_ Lady Disdain." Lucifer made a mock courteous bow.

Sam snorted. He knew his Shakespeare. " _Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence_."

"Of course. I should have known better." Lucifer's smile lost its arrogance for a moment and his eyes became heated. " _Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably_."

"So now you're wooing?"

"Peace?" For the first time, Lucifer seemed to truly relax, the cold smile thawing and reaching his eyes. "And maybe I were. If I knew you weren't insusceptible to such an approach."

"Dinner," Dean shouted, interrupting them before Sam could reply. 

Sam let out a relieved sigh. Lucifer was frigging intense. The small grace he'd been given lasted only a few seconds. Lucifer slid his arm under Sam's, again far too close, far too much body heat, far too many strong muscles tensing against him. Good thing that there were only a few steps to the chair that Dean assigned him with a wave. Lucifer sat down next to him, pulling his chair so close to Sam's that the warmth of Lucifer's body felt like a furnace against his arm. 

Fuck, it was going to be a long dinner.

*

"And they simply had walls up around their servers like they were trying to build the Chinese wall over again, just in bytes," Lucifer said, and Sam couldn't stop himself from laughing. "And it turned out that some programming noob had left a web application so open that you'd been able to ram a 747 through it without them noticing it, motor running and all. You'd think that they'd cover cross site scripting attacks in Javascript, because why would anyone care to teach people the most elementary knowledge before letting them run wild outside the testing environment, but no. It was so many levels of incompetence that I wonder whether their coders were able to handle an abacus without fucking up security."

The story was hilarious and Lucifer was right about people being one of their biggest problems. Sam had had his run ins with the true security risk in every system: humans. "Seven years of pentest distro development wasted in ten minutes because some stupid boy played in a playground where he had nothing to do in the first place? Incredible." Sam was appalled on behalf of all security-conscious IT-people. "Now that we're talking development... Have you found any miscons in the new Kali Linux yet?"

"Did some voluntary work with ACLU last month; a few of their open source people are poking at it with some heavy artillery. Kali's probably the best pen test tool out there; a clear improvement of BackTrack Linux. Best defense is offense," Lucifer said, turning his glass of wine in his hands. He looked over the rim at Sam. "If there are problems, I'll find them. You?"

The discussion of Kali Linux was suddenly secondary. Because the information that Lucifer did work for the American Civil Liberties Union, NSA's opponent, at least in spirit was baffling. Lucifer didn't fit the profile of a champion of freedom and civil rights. Sam wanted to agree, to express his support of ACLU, but staying out of prison was more important to him, since he fully intended to be back in hacktivism as soon as his shackles were off. Lucifer was clever, and admitting any sympathy for the ACLU brand of activism might lead the conversation with Lucifer in a direction that Sam didn't want it to go. So he had to keep his mouth shut if he ever hoped to be able to rejoin the fight against NSA and their insistent snooping on everyone and everything. He couldn't afford any unwanted attention. Still, ACLU was where he'd be, had the chain around his neck not been forged so cleverly by NSA. Sam hesitated a bit too long with the answer, enough to trigger Lucifer's curiosity. 

"Or maybe personal freedom, free from surveillance doesn't sit well with you? What is it that you do, again?" Lucifer's eyes turned into cold, narrow slits. His thigh, on the other hand, exuded warmth, too close to Sam's leg, a contradictory circle of warm and cold, of attraction and repulsion. 

Sam felt like a ventriloquist's dummy, NSA's hand so far up his ass that they could tickle his tonsils. It was their words, their cover story that came out of his mouth. He still hadn't gotten used to the lie. He never would, because he hated it, hated that he was owned by the enemy. "I'm sure Castiel told you? I work for a small government agency. It's quite boring — security and backbone support. Agricultural Research. Local ARS center. I don't think we're particularly interesting to anyone. It's a bit above my pay grade, dealing with the really heavy security stuff." Sam knew it sounded like he was reading a shopping list aloud. He could almost see the wheels turning, Lucifer running a string of _condition ? evaluated-when-true : evaluated-when-false_ over and over in his head.

Lucifer didn't say anything. He nodded and took a sip of his wine. Then his smile turned positively evil. "If you'll excuse me." He stood and left the table, no explanation. 

Of course Lucifer didn't owe him any explanations. Sam took a deep breath. It was as if he'd been in the middle of a raging storm for a moment, Lucifer's angry intensity getting to him. Clearly the other guests had picked up on it, not unsurprising, as Sam felt as if he'd forgotten that he and Lucifer weren't alone in the room. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow and mouthed, "What's going on?" at Sam. 

Sam shrugged. If he only knew. He'd found men hot before. He'd had his share of one-night stands when he was younger, and he found them utterly dissatisfying. He preferred to admire from a distance as not to get entangled in anything or anyone. Besides, Lucifer was in an entirely different league. It was hate, desire, admiration, equal footing, instant attraction. Mutual attraction, Sam was sure. A whole slew of feelings mingling into this heady sensation that made Sam unable to register much more than Lucifer's eyes, his hands, the way his mouth moved, the way his lips curled. The way his leg had slid along Sam's under the table. 

"The salmon was fantastic," Sam attempted, turning to Bobby on his right, deliberately avoiding Dean's eyes. "Dean's become a really good cook, don't you think?"

Dean made a face, as if he knew exactly why Sam was steering the conversation into shallower waters. So what? It wasn't as if he'd been shouting at Lucifer or anything. Dean gave up trying. He got up with Cas and they began removing the very empty plates. The food had been a great success.

Before Bobby could reply, Sam's phone buzzed. "Sorry." He pointed at his pocket. "Work." Sam pulled out the phone, looking at the display, trying to be discreet which was more than a little difficult with everyone's eyes on him. It was the NSA server warning system. Sam had barely opened the message before another arrived. A text from Kevin. 

_SYN flood. Primitive. We got it. Happy NY!_

Sam grinned. Who the hell was stupid enough to try a simple attack on an NSA server with nothing to back it? Not all hackers were too bright. It would probably have taken Kevin less than a second to shut it down. That was, anything that their system hadn't killed already which would be 'all of it'. It was like a mosquito threatening an elephant. A _dead_ mosquito. Sam sighed. Why the hell did they have to deal with this shit on New Year's eve? Sam knew the answer. The moment they let their guard down, Trident would slide right under their defenses and into their databases. There would be no way that their databases would end up as an 'all your bases are belong to us'. Not on Sam's watch. 

"Problems?" Lucifer slid into the chair next to Sam, too close, far too close. His thigh slid, warm and hard, along Sam's. Lucifer smiled. "Server alarm?"

Sam put his phone away. Lucifer was a bit too clever. And anything connected to Sam's work was none of Lucifer's business. "It was nothing. Just a text from one of my co-workers to wish me Happy New Year."

Dean stepped between them, offering a full plate to Lucifer.

"Contrary to this." Lucifer took the plate that Dean handed him. There was a huge piece of strawberry pie on it. Hot chocolate sauce covered Dean's homemade vanilla ice cream. "Mmm. Looks good. Can't wait to taste it." Lucifer licked his lips. His eyes met Sam's. Right that instant, Lucifer wasn't interested in the pie at all. 

Dean gave the other plate to Sam. "So you're discussing how sexy Linux is, or what? Sweet. You could share your conclusion with the rest of us. Or not. 'Or not' would be awesome now that I think of it." 

Sam made a grimace. "For one who called me at 3 a.m., wanting help because he couldn't find his cursor on the screen, you're remarkably sassy, Dean."

Dean sent Lucifer a grin. "I was drunk."

"You're one hundred percent sure you're related, yes?" Lucifer asked Dean, for decency's sake studying the decadent chocolate-and-strawberry pie on the plate instead of Sam. "You really are different, you and Sam, yet strangely alike. And I'll tell you this: if Sam hasn't inherited that natural talent for cooking, I'm no longer interested in him." Lucifer winked at Sam, ignoring Dean's baffled expression. He smiled, shark-like and sharp, at Dean's wide-eyed surprise that turned into a flirty grin as the surprise slid off him. 

"I can't cook if my life depended on it," Lucifer purred. "What do you say, Dean? Maybe you should leave my boring book-worm of a brother and—"

"Traitor," Sam growled, interrupting Lucifer's flirty teasing. The outburst came as a surprise even to himself. Sam was sure Lucifer was joking, but it didn't matter. Dean wasn't going to leave anyone, except Sam wanted Dean to leave Lucifer alone. The sooner Dean got away from Lucifer, the better. Sam suppressed a pout. He wasn't the jealous type, he had nothing to be jealous about, Lucifer wasn't his, and Sam didn't _want_ him. He was fine by himself. Fine. "It's a coincidence that Dean succeeded, making us a decent dinner. I could mention the apricot vodka martini we managed to get rid of before you arrived, and you'd be less impressed." Sam told Lucifer before he sent Dean a glare, willing him to go away so that he could ignore the burn of possessiveness that flared inside him.

"I love apricot," Lucifer positively moaned. "Is there any left? Please, tell me there is, Dean!" Lucifer's eyes strayed for a moment, long enough to look at Sam, eyes sparkling with glee. 

_Caught!_ Sam smirked. Jesus, Lucifer was frigging annoying. And he was being annoying on purpose. Asshole. Sam wanted to call him out on it, but decided to file away the discovery for later use.

"Sure." Dean grinned, totally clueless as to Sam's distress. "Let me get you some." Dean was playing Lucifer's game without knowing it, and right there, Sam could have killed him on the spot. Short of asking Dean to piss off so that Lucifer could continue to hit on him without distractions or interruption there was nothing Sam could do but to pretend to keep his calm. Somehow punching one's irritating, meddling brother in the face — lovingly, of course — usually didn't do much for the holiday cheer.

Sam sighed and turned to his plate, trying not to let Lucifer get to him. 

What kind of magic was it that Lucifer held that made him so irritatingly irresistible?

*

Dinner was over and the guests gathered in the living room. The scent of good coffee filled the room. Sam poured himself a cup and sat down to chat with Jody. Somebody had put on some of Dean's classic rock records. Metallica, Sam guessed. At least somebody was busy telling their darling to die. Sam made the mistake looking at Lucifer, seated in a lounge chair a little apart from the rest of the guests, quietly singing along to the last verse of the song.

_Shut your pretty mouth. I'll be seeing you again. I'll be seeing you, in hell._

Lucifer leaned back in the chair, staring openly at Sam as if nobody else was present in the room. The enigmatic smile spread on his face again. Lucifer looked as if he knew something Sam didn't.

Sam wondered what the hell was going on. He had never been hit on so blatantly, except once in a gay club. And still he felt as if Lucifer was playing with him, that Lucifer for some reason could look into the future, knowing that he'd give in at some point. 

Unfortunately, Lucifer was right. Sam would. Reluctantly, but he would.

Sam could feel his own arousal like a slow simmer of electricity, an undercurrent, surge of magnetism that connected him to Lucifer. It was sexual attraction, all right, but Sam knew it was more than just the appreciation of a good-looking guy. Lucifer was intelligent, sarcastic and sharp, switchblade sharp. There was something in Lucifer's eyes that drew Sam in, a deep longing that he somehow understood, even without knowing why Lucifer would feel way, as if he longed for something or someone he could never have. Even the arrogance and the dislike that Sam felt seemed to turn into a spice that did nothing but enhance Sam's appetite. 

Minute by minute, look by look, Sam became increasingly sure that he could not let Lucifer go.

Sure, Sam had thought that Lucifer was playing with him. Studying him now... Sam decided to change his mind. There was something honest underneath all the posturing, and it was that strange honesty that was getting to Sam, undermining his defenses. If Lucifer was playing him on purpose he was a better actor than just about any Oscar winner out there. The moment of open vulnerability made Sam genuinely interested.

Unable to concentrate on the conversation, Sam interrupted Jody in the middle of an account of her latest arrest, something about a couple of amateur bank robbers whose getaway car had left them stuck in traffic on one of the city's main roads. He needed to take a break, needed to get out of the spotlight. Lucifer's intensity was turning Sam into a deer, caught in the headlights. Sam needed either to act on the attraction, or get the hell out of Dodge, the latter obviously the better solution, since Dean would never let him hear the end of it otherwise, throwing himself at Castiel's big brother without warning. It would be the easy solution: no teasing, no strings, no commitment, no unwanted attention. Problem was that Sam didn't want _easy_. Funny how priorities changed in the course of a three-hour dinner. "Excuse me."

"So polite? All because of New Year's eve?" Jody winked. "Careful, Sam, don't let it become a habit. Bobby will be so disappointed in you."

Sam chuckled. "There is that. I learned from the best. I shall do my best to improve in the future. I'll go and say something offensive to Dean right away."

Sam made it to the bathroom. He leaned against the vanity, resting his forehead against the cold tiles. Sam's thoughts were a blur. Doubt and desire mingled, refusing to reach an agreement on a course of action. Okay, so Lucifer wasn't a one-time deal, there was no way Sam could let himself be engulfed in the desire he felt, and then let it last only a night. Sam didn't really do one-night stands anyway, and if he did, he surely wouldn't have them with his brother's brother-in-law. Castiel had enough problems, and Sam had no intentions of disturbing the tentative connection with Lucifer that Castiel had finally managed to make after years of low-simmering enmity.

Turning on the cold water, Sam stuck his hands under the icy stream, as if it could help him clear his head. He splashed a handful at his face, drops running down his neck, making him shiver.

Lucifer had talked about wooing. But he couldn't possibly mean that, Sam was sure of it. They'd known each other for less than five hours, and no relationship could be built on such unstable ground. Oh, damn. Sam groaned. He was lying to himself. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but he'd still give it a chance, no second thoughts, if Lucifer was willing. He'd never felt this connected to anyone his entire life, except for Dean, and not for the same reason. 

There was no way around it. He needed to forget the what-if-algorithm he had running in his head. On the bottom line it was easy: either he was in or out. It was a simple question and a simple reply. Lucifer understood binary, and that was what Sam needed. No what-ifs, no conditions, nothing but yes or no. If Lucifer said yes, there would be what-ifs galore; NSA wasn't going to go away just because Sam had found a boyfriend.

He needed to speak to Lucifer. Both of them sitting in each their side of the living room, sending googly eyes at each other while Dean and Cas watched them wasn't going to cut it. 

"I'm tired of this shit," Sam told his image in the mirror. Tied to a cause that wasn't his, Sam could live with NSA and all their evil schemes if he had someone like Lucifer in his life. NSA was still preferable to prison, but a guy like Lucifer would make staying free so much more interesting. He had the feeling that Lucifer would understand his position. Except Sam couldn't exactly tell him what he was doing for a living. "Alright." Sam nodded, making his decision as he watched his own expression in the mirror. "I'm gonna do it. Can't lose anything. He's probably gonna say no anyway."

Now Sam hoped he hadn't read Lucifer wrong. He'd be fucked either way, but Christ, Sam hoped the potential fucking would be in the horizontal way. Unless Lucifer preferred doing it standing up, in which case Sam would be fine with that as well. 

Another splash of cold water on the face helped Sam clear his mind. Yeah, he was ready. He'd lulled himself into a safe cocoon consisting of work and more work. He had a _life_ , a part that didn't belong to NSA. He wanted Lucifer to be a part of it.

Sam unlocked the door and stepped out into the dark hallway. Faint laughter from the living room was the only sound. A lamp in the far end spread a weak light that did little to chase away the darkness. Sam took a deep breath, the sudden smell of pines and winter the only warning he got. 

"Feeling alright there, Sammy?" Lucifer's soft voice slithered pleasantly like kisses down Sam's spine, breath hot against Sam's ear as Lucifer stepped up behind him. 

Sam took yet another deep breath, deep and slow, to calm himself. He stood frozen for a moment in the dark, Lucifer's hand on his back. "Never better," he replied, leaning into the touch for a second. He shivered, jittery and eager to turn the tables, to take control for a while. Now that he'd decided, he almost couldn't wait. He forced himself to relax until Lucifer's body was flush against his own. Lucifer's arm slid around him, his strong warm hand resting on Sam's hip.

Then Sam moved. He turned quickly, grabbing Lucifer by the shoulders. He pushed him against the wall. The impact was softened by the coats the guests had left there on a row of pegs. Sam pressed an arm across Lucifer's chest, satisfied that Lucifer looked rattled. 

"I don't know what you're playing at," Sam whispered, every word deliberately slow and well-formed. "I am not for your entertainment. I am not yours to play with."

"Sam—" Lucifer's smile turned breathless and slack-mouthed as it slid off his face.

"Quiet. I have the floor, and you keep your mouth shut until I'm done."

Lucifer's reply was nothing by a glint in his eyes, amused or angry or aroused, Sam didn't know. Also, he didn't care. He had something that needed to be said and Lucifer could take it or leave it. 0/1 variables sure had a beauty of their own, all simple and clear.

"I'm not interested in you for a night," Sam admitted readily. That was what it was about, telling Lucifer to back up or own up. "If that's what you're aiming for. So either you keep your hands and your eyes to yourself, or you get with the program. If you eye-fuck me again, or flirt, or slide your leg against mine like you did during dinner, I assume you know what you're doing. If you're not interested, leave me alone. I'm not wasting time on a lost cause. If you say yes to me, you're _mine_!" With a last push, without waiting for an answer, or for anything at all, Sam turned on his heel and left Lucifer to disentangle himself from coats and from the darkness in the corridor.

*

The rest of the evening Sam stayed away from Lucifer. If Lucifer wanted him he knew what to do. Sam liked that: he'd left the _if a, then b_ s to Lucifer. There was only yes or no for Sam to care about. At times he could feel Lucifer's icy eyes burn into his back, as if all Lucifer's attention was directed at him the moment he looked somewhere else. He could sense it in Lucifer's answers, the way he fell in and out of the conversation, listening somewhat patiently to Jo and Ellen, discussing the finer aspects of the latest Daily Show. Sam had rattled Lucifer and it made him feel good. He couldn't put a finger to why he'd acted so possessively; all he knew was it was all about everything or nothing. A _little_ Lucifer would not be enough, it would _never_ be enough.

Relaxing, drink in one hand, Sam managed to forget the challenge he had issued, instead engaging in a heated discussion with Cas. Not that Sam had found the differences between the _Heinkel 162 Volksjäger_ and the _He 219 Nightjäger_ particularly significant before, but Castiel's love of flying and his deep knowledge about the German _Luftwaffe_ made Sam listen with more enthusiasm than usual.

He was so emerged in Castiel's enthusiastic lecture that he only realized how close they were to midnight when he looked up, Dean dangling a half full glass in front of him. Sam looked up. "Eh?"

"Champagne." Dean pointed at the wall clock. "Almost time."

"What? No stupid paper hats?" Sam laughed. One of the good things about their crappy childhood; they had few traditions, and most of them consisted of buying things to burn and explode. "Fireworks?" he asked, looking forward to being twelve years old together with Dean, reliving one of their few happy childhood moments.

"Some for later." Dean patted Sam's shoulder. "I'm a grown up now," he stated, his grin belying that fact. "And so are you, kiddo."

Someone turned on the TV. A minute left. Sam got up, holding out a hand for Castiel, pulling him up from the couch.

"Better find someone to kiss before it's too late," Cas said innocently, pretending not to be wicked at all as he grabbed Dean by the arm, yanking him close. Dean made a delightfully undignified yelp, and Sam laughed to keep the slight tinge of envy at bay. He sighed. He'd liked it to be different, but Lucifer's reply to him was clearly a zero. No. He wasn't interested in more than a quick fuck, and Sam wasn't interested in that. 

Thirty seconds. Jo cocked her head questioningly. Sam shrugged as much at Jo as at the disappointment.

Fifteen. 

Ten. 

"I think this one is mine. Or I'm his. Any which way he wants it," Lucifer said, walking across the room in five long strides. Before Sam could do anything, Lucifer pulled him into his arms, kissing him as the bells rang and the new year began.

Around them there were whistling and cheering. Sam didn't care. Because Lucifer's lips were soft, and the way his tongue slid over Sam's, teasing and wet, left too little oxygen for Sam to think. All he could do was to kiss Lucifer back. There was nothing but Lucifer's lips on his, Lucifer's hands hot on his skin. Sam sighed into the kiss, pulling Lucifer flush against his body, all long limbs and strong, hard muscles. The kiss tingled on his mouth, creating an undercurrent of aroused need that contaminated the way he breathed, turning his breath ragged and dirty. It made his brain refuse to understand anything but Lucifer's touch. They kissed from one year into the next, and Sam would have continued kissing Lucifer into the next _decade_ , had it not been for the lack of air.

He pulled back, breathless and gasping, only to find Lucifer's blue eyes warm and glazed over. 

"That's a yes, if you were in doubt," Lucifer whispered, his breath in tatters, the remains of it ghosting softly over Sam's mouth. "Fuck, yes."

Sam just stood there, looking into Lucifer's eyes, and he knew he was lost.

"Get a room, you two," Bobby growled. "I am too old to watch all that rainbow-colored bull. Next you're breeding unicorns or sum'thin'." 

Lucifer's mouth curled into a wicked smile. "Sam?"

Oh, yes! Getting out of there sounded like the best idea ever. "My place or yours?"

"You're not driving," Ellen decided. "And you aren't, either, Lucifer. Keys." She whipped out a hand, making it clear that if either one of them even came close to a car, Ellen would raise hell.

Sam nodded, accepting defeat. Ellen was right. Only, getting a taxi at this point would be downright impossible. He stared at Lucifer, almost desperate with need.

"Guest bedroom! If I find you in my bed, I'm gonna kill you," Dean shouted. "And if we hear so much as a moan, you're spending New Year's night in the street, no matter how naked you are."

Drunk enough to ignore the utter embarrassment, having his family teasing him and making plans for his night with Lucifer, Sam simply grabbed Lucifer's hand and pulled him along, out of the living room, into the corridor and finally into the guest bedroom, not caring (at least that instant) that he'd probably have Dean reminding him of this moment every New Year's eve for the rest of their lives. It was more important to hold on to Lucifer, making sure he didn't escape. Not really too hung up on the fact that Lucifer was Castiel's brother and thus would be readily available for the foreseeable future, Sam refused to let go, strangely afraid that if he did, he'd slip away forever. 

Maybe Lucifer felt the same. When Sam shoved Lucifer up against the bedroom wall, slamming the door shut behind them with the push of a foot, Lucifer had him halfway undressed, even before the Sam turned the key behind Lucifer's back, angle awkward and difficult. Greedily, Sam used the advantage of having the use of both hands and hurried to make use of them, one hand on Lucifer's chest, one on his ass, pressing them together. Sam moaned.

"From the moment I realized it was you, I wanted this," Lucifer gasped, eyes closed in pleasure as he rubbed himself against Sam's thigh. "Never been more turned on. I want you. Please, Sam, let me have you."

"Me? What do you—" He was cut off ruthlessly by a kiss, Lucifer's tongue in his mouth even before their lips met.

Sam had no reply other than another needy moan. He buried his hand in Lucifer's hair, forcing him to stretch his neck so that Sam could lick and nibble at it. He breathed in; Lucifer's scent was intoxicating. Blindly, Sam fumbled with buttons and Lucifer's tie, tugging and maybe tearing a little, at least there was a sound as if a button or two surrendered and fled to hide under the dresser. Sam didn't care, not as long as he gained quick access to the warm skin underneath the obviously expensive cotton. 

Lucifer had his hand down Sam's pants, sliding along the curve of his ass, the other hand doing battle with Sam's belt. "Damn," Lucifer groaned impatiently. "Naked, hurry!"

Sam shrugged his own shirt off, ignoring Lucifer's attempt to undress him. Instead Sam pushed Lucifer towards the bed. "Good thinking" Sam growled, just as impatient. Not caring to wait for Lucifer to get on the bed, Sam simply shoved Lucifer down, hovering over him, fumbling for the switch on the lamp on the nightstand so he could see what he was doing. He wanted to cherish every inch of Lucifer's naked body, and touching wasn't enough. Sam wanted to see what was underneath the clothes, he wanted to see his hands splayed across Lucifer's stomach, wanted to see how it looked when he caressed Lucifer's strong thighs. Sam wanted to see his hand wrapped around Lucifer's erection that stretched the cashmere of Lucifer's pants so prettily. 

"Please let there be lube in the drawer," Lucifer murmured, busy latching on to Sam's nipple as he stretched across the bed. "I want to fuck you senseless."

"You really need better manners," Sam laughed, gasping as Lucifer sucked hard on his peaking nipple. Turning on the light, the room was bathed in a soft, golden light, and Sam had to stop his search for lube and condoms in favor of kissing Lucifer breathless once again. Sam pulled back, staring almost bedazzled, at the way little wrinkles curled upwards at the corners of Lucifer's eyes as he smiled, his lips wet and parted, tempting Sam into kissing them again. "And who says I'll let you?"

"Nothing wrong with my manners," Lucifer said, "I waited until after dinner. To get you naked, I mean. And only because you resisted me so vehemently."

"Yeah, your restraint is remarkable. Think of all the time we could have saved if you'd been a bit more determined," Sam chuckled, gasping again as Lucifer put a hand on his hard cock, finally conquering the obstacle of the button and zip. "Not sure how Cas would have taken it if you'd thrown me on the dinner table, insisting to make a show of it."

Lucifer pulled off more clothes, Sam's and his own, leaving more warm skin for Sam to feast on. Clumsily and with a few awkward groans, Sam pulled off his remaining sock, attempting to shove his tongue down Lucifer's throat at the same time. Lucifer's large hands were almost brutal, there was no gentle slide, just rough, demanding touches. Sam moaned into Lucifer's mouth, forcing Lucifer to swallow his sounds and take the sloppy kiss. Lucifer's heart was thumping rapidly, loudly against Sam's chest, leaving no doubt that Lucifer was as aroused and needy as Sam himself. 

Shirts and pants and underwear were pushed onto the floor, and Sam made little aroused sighs as Lucifer's cock slid up into the crevice between his cheeks. "Fuck," Sam moaned, curling fingers and nails into Lucifer's chest. Sam splayed his fingers wide, wanting to cover as much skin as possible. Lucifer's chest was very, very nice: smooth skin, a smattering of soft blond hair and a pale blue tattoo on the left, right above the areola. Sam leaned close, kissing his way to Lucifer's hard nipple, half way there before something about the arousing view grated against the pleasurably dazed state he was in. 

Sam straightened up, head tilted to one side. He traced the small tattoo with a finger. Like Lucifer, it was a work of art, elaborate. "A trident?" Sam frowned, tracing the lines of the barbed pitchfork. He shook his head in denial. 

God, no!

" _Trident_?" he whispered, breathless with the realization. It was a question, but not really. Somehow Sam just knew. The man he had hunted for years, for _years_ , was lying here, under him, naked and wanting. There was no way that Lucifer didn't know that Sam would put two and two together. Yeah, Lucifer had bared himself in all ways that mattered, clearly trusting Sam enough to believe that Sam wouldn't turn him in. Again Lucifer's arrogance was showing. It was either that or a trust that Sam knew he would have difficulties honoring.

Lucifer made a tight-lipped smile, reaching for Sam's cheek. He cupped it, caressing it gently. "I know who you are, Sam. I know you and I want you. I knew who you were when I tried to find you at that security conference."

Sam's hand turned into balls of white-knuckled indignation. How could a wanted Internet criminal be so... calm and confident? Didn't Lucifer _know_ that Sam had to turn him in? And if it was true that Trident... that _Lucifer_ knew who Sam worked for, his freedom would be endangered too. "And if say that I don't want you?" 

"Then you'd be lying."

Sam didn't bother contradicting Lucifer. They both knew that Lucifer was right. "It was you, wasn't it? The alarm during dinner? You launched a SYN flood on your fucking _Blackberry_ to see if I got an alert. You weren't _sure_." Sam laughed bitterly, forgetting that he was still naked and on top of Lucifer. 

Lucifer smirked and ran a knuckle down Sam's cheek. "You're a formidable opponent, _Wesson_."

Sam gasped. How the hell had Lucifer been able to connect Sam's handle and his real name? Nobody knew, nobody but the Nerd Herd and NSA. "That's not—"

"Don't. I know why you're with the NSA. I know what you did before, Sam, every famous hack you've made. I know you did something that got NSA on your case. I have a vague idea about the deal you made with them, and I understand why you did it." Lucifer put a finger over Sam's mouth before he could speak. "And I know one more thing: you turn me on like no one else."

Lucifer's words slithered silkily down his spine, making him shiver from lust. He forced himself not to react. "That agreement was confidential. And I know for sure that you never got into our system."

"As long as I get into _your_ system." Lucifer sent Sam an annoyingly wide and easy grin. "And, no, I didn't hack NSA to find out about your deal. But the court's servers... Oh, my. Like stealing candy from a two-year old. Public information, plus a bit of poking around in what the court had on the case behind their embarrassingly inadequate firewall and I had the most of it. And then Cassie was sweet enough to provide the last few missing pieces for my puzzle. Not that he knew, of course."

Sam groaned, knowing that he should get up, call his boss and out Lucifer on the spot. Crowley would be elated. Unfortunately, Sam's lack of enthusiasm in regard to his current employer forbade him to leave the soft bed and the good company. "You're evil."

"And you're hot. So what's it gonna be, Sammy?" Lucifer slid his hands up Sam's thighs again, making his brain short-circuit for a moment. "Stay or go? Yes or no?"

Sam took a deep breath. Nobody knew. If they both kept their mouths closed, they could do it. NSA didn't _own_ his personal life. Except they did, and Sam had to decide whether it mattered.

Lucifer knew how to bait the hook. "I swear I'll stop teasing you." He slid a finger up Sam's half-hard cock. "I swear I'll keep my hands off your Perfect Server."

Of course Lucifer hadn't been eyeing the NSA servers for the fun of it, but Sam would take what he could get. "I..." Sam threw his head back and moaned as Lucifer teased his dick into full hardness. A nail scratching across the slit made Sam unable to put together a coherent thought from the shattered remains that Lucifer's experienced caresses left him with.

"Not as much as a smurf attack until you're out and they have no hold on you. On my honor. Well, maybe a few for old times' sake. I can wait. _Project Perfect Citizen_ will be there next year too." Lucifer thrust up between Sam's legs, rubbing his hard dick against Sam's perineum. 

"You wanna talk shop or do you want to get on with this?" Sam snapped, impatient for more. "I begin to think that I'm not your first priority."

Lucifer was up in a flash, throwing Sam on his back. 

Sam cried out, surprised, his arousal spiraling. "Fuck!"

Lucifer straddled him, pinning him to the bed by the shoulders. "I didn't chase you across the Internet to let you become second to my work or the fun we have with other people's servers, Sam."

"So why?" Sam slid his hands up Lucifer's thighs, all the way to his groin. He cupped Lucifer's balls in one hand, stroking Lucifer's cock with the other. A counterproductive strike, but Sam wanted Lucifer now. He'd run out of patience.

"Be- oh- cause... Fuck, Sam... Oh!" Lucifer's coherence wasn't what it had been. He stilled Sam's hand with his own. "Because your personality interested me. You made quite the impression, even when you were just attacks and counter-attacks out there, in the binary, and I was curious. I found out who you were, your name. Then I saw you that day at the ASE con, and I was done for. Didn't know right away, but then I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"It's possibly the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Sam said, gasping, moaning and laughing at the same time. "Who would have guessed? Trident is a romantic!"

"I'll show you romance, you _nihilist_ ," Lucifer snorted, fumbling with the drawer in the nightstand, his weight keeping Sam on the bed as he rummaged around for condoms. "I'll recite a poem when I have my dick so far up your ass that you can't speak."

"Not letting you do anything that important; you're a security risk," Sam purred and snapped the small package out of Lucifer's hand. He put his hand on Lucifer's chest and pushed, making Lucifer lose his balance. "My turn." Sam couldn't keep a smile off his face. Lucifer was a challenge, in bed and outside, and it was exactly what Sam had needed in his life. NSA was squeezing the life out of him, and here, with Lucifer and their strange fluctuations between making love and fighting, Sam felt _alive_ for the first time since FBI knocked on his door together with the NSA. 

Lucifer got up on his elbows, watching Sam hungrily. He was about to move when Sam poked him in the chest with a finger. "No! Lie back and enjoy the show. I'm directing."

"Whatever you say, baby, as long as I get to have you." Lucifer crooked a finger, luring Sam closer. "And if you kiss me first," he demanded arrogantly, sliding one leg behind Sam to pull him in.

Lucifer's dick rubbed hard and damp against Sam's stomach; the promise of fullness and pleasure. It made Sam moan into Lucifer's mouth, whimper as Lucifer was unable to hold back his own eager moans, sound vibrating over Sam's tongue and lips. 

"I hope there are more condoms," Lucifer groaned, "because I want that dirty mouth on me first; before I fuck you." He danced a hand down Sam's chest, tapping fingers toward his cock. Fingertips teased a few drops of pre-come from Sam. "I want to have you in my mouth," Lucifer whispered, hiding yet another moan behind the quiet words. "I want this in my throat." He closed his hand around Sam's blood-heavy cock, teasing it again.

Sam's brain stopped working at the first mention of Lucifer's mouth. Yeah, he'd like that, to fuck all ability to speak, every arrogant sound out of Lucifer's throat. "Okay."

"Hands off," Lucifer demanded and ripped open the small package. He took Sam in hand, looking hungrily at the expanse of stretched, damp skin as he rolled the condom on, slowly, carefully. Lucifer's dick throbbed under Sam's balls. It was turning Lucifer on — more on — to watch the rubber slide down Sam's big cock. The air was strawberry-scented, the artificial smell spreading as Lucifer jerked Sam off, ever so slowly.

"Fuck," Sam panted, thrusting up into Lucifer's hand. "You like that, do you?"

"Get another, for me." Lucifer didn't deny it. He curled his lips. "I _am_ a security expert, no matter how much you deny it. And I am going to make damned sure that we're both going to enjoy this." He rubbed a thumb over the head of Sam's cock, his breath hitching at the vague sound of crinkling latex.

"Pervert," Sam gasped and laughed at the same time. If that was Lucifer's kink, Sam was _so_ in on it. He reached for the drawer, the bed dipping and creaking before he sat back, allowing Lucifer's cock enough freedom for him to handle it. Lucifer's breath hitched and he couldn't keep still when Sam rolled the condom on, taking his time, appreciating Lucifer's little, dark moans and the way he squirmed on the bed, eyes trailed on Sam, and what Sam was doing. 

"Suck me," Lucifer demanded, a hand into Sam's hair. "Fuck, Sam!"

Sam could have been sassy and asked what Lucifer wanted — sucking or fucking. But he was pretty sure they'd get to both before sunrise so it would be a waste of valuable time, time he could use exploring Lucifer's kinks. So Sam licked his lips and bent forward, hands on Lucifer's hips, with no warning swallowing as much of the strawberry-scented dick that he possibly could.

The smell of warm, clean skin and strawberries, of Lucifer's cologne and the faint smells of semen and latex made Sam take a deep breath. He didn't think he would be able to look at a strawberry again without thinking of hot sex with Lucifer. 

Clutching at a bottle of lube, Lucifer let out an undignified sound as Sam took him in as deep as he could, twirling his tongue around the hard shaft, sucking and licking at it. Sam liked cock, he liked sucking it, and he liked the way Lucifer reacted, giving in entirely to the sensation and the pleasure, no first-time jittery holding back. Lucifer knew how to enjoy the good things in life. Lucifer played with Sam's hair, letting it brush across his stomach, as if he enjoyed the sensation of the hard suction and the silken feeling of soft hair on his skin. 

Sam grabbed his own cock, stroking it a few times before Lucifer tightened his hand, pulling Sam's hair. 

"No. No touching. Mine."

Sam stared at Lucifer breathlessly as he moved back a little, as far as Lucifer allowed him, enough to let Lucifer's shaft slide out of his mouth.

"Turn over. You are going to fuck my mouth." 

It was an order, and Sam sort of liked it. Lucifer knew what he wanted and as long as it coincided with what Sam wanted, it was a damned _aphrodisiac_ , to have Lucifer tell him what to do. Sam swallowed another moan and did what Lucifer asked him, offering himself up to Lucifer, cock bobbing against Lucifer's face. Lucifer's cock throbbed too, hardening. Lucifer thrust up, as if to tell Sam that he could continue. Sam sort of liked that too. He leaned on one hand, grabbing Lucifer's dick with the other, about to suck it back in when the world suddenly tilted as Lucifer's hot mouth engulfed him, Lucifer swallowing him to the hilt with no apparent unease.

Sam cried out, so loud it made him pause, gasping as not to let out more sounds to entertain the rest of the assembly in the living room. "Oh, God," he let out between clenched teeth, almost back in control when Lucifer did it again, this time adding to the sensation with a lubed finger sliding into Sam's ass. The sound that Sam made was even louder, and he had only brain enough left to put his mouth to use, swallowing Lucifer's cock once more. It was satisfying to feel Lucifer's moans vibrate around his cock. It only lasted until Lucifer breathed in, cold air around Sam's shaft, and took him in again, all the way, this time forcing Sam to stay there, still, deep in Lucifer's throat. Lucifer's strong arm around his waist pressed him down. Lucifer's cock twitched. Sam groaned, still licking at Lucifer, when Lucifer's throat constricted around him, the sensation driving him crazy with lust. Sam paused. Between his thighs he could feel Lucifer's chest rise and fall, the restricted air not enough. Sam moved up an inch, attempting to pull out, but Lucifer kept him there a few more seconds before he was allowed to move. 

Sam put his mouth around Lucifer's cock at the exact moment when Lucifer took a deep, loud breath, fighting to get enough, more, oxygen into his lungs. Sam sucked hard, bobbing up and down on Lucifer's dick, Lucifer's moans increasingly louder and ragged. 

"Do it," Lucifer rasped when he was able to speak. "Fuck my mouth hard. Don't hold back, Sam. I want all of you, everything you've got. Want to feel you in me before I take you."

Lucifer's words turned Sam's arousal up a notch, making his entire body thrum with raging lust. It was fine with Sam, he liked gentle, but rough was more to his liking, and if Lucifer wanted rough, Sam would happily provide — any which way Lucifer needed it. Sam curled his fingers around Lucifer's cock, squeezing it roughly, as if to say that he was fine with the idea. Lucifer moaned loudly and took Sam in again, his tongue hot and slick on Sam's dick. Following Lucifer's lead, Sam snapped his hips, slamming into Lucifer's mouth hard, giving him what he'd asked for. Without caring for Lucifer's comfort, Sam started moving: short, hard thrust, leaving it to Lucifer to manage how deep he went in. Sam panted, moaned, around Lucifer when Lucifer's fingers slid into his hole with a squelching, wet sound. Fucking himself on Lucifer's fingers while ramming his cock into Lucifer's throat had Sam on the brink of orgasm in no time; it had been too long, and Lucifer was too good at what he did. 

He was done for when Lucifer pushed in another finger, forcing him down in his throat again, holding him there for what felt like an eternity of burning pleasure, fingers pressing against Sam's prostate, throat working his cock. Sam let go of Lucifer's cock, coming hard, crying out, repeating Lucifer's name over and over as wave after wave of intense orgasmic bliss washed over him as he filled the condom. 

Sam had barely finished before rough hands pushed him forward, into the mattress, landing him there with an, "ooomph," of surprise. 

Lucifer was over him, parting his buttocks. "Ready?"

"Fuck, yes," Sam managed, slightly confused and limp from the orgasm. He was still trying to get back some form of control over his body, but Lucifer didn't let him. His legs were spread and before he could do anything, Lucifer slid into his wet, open hole. Sam was relaxed and fuck, he wanted Lucifer to take him! Lucifer slid in with ease, stopping only when he was buried balls-deep in Sam's ass, his entire weight on Sam, pressing him into the mattress.

"I'm going to fuck you so good," Lucifer murmured in his ear, nuzzling it. "I'm going to fuck you until you come again on my cock. I'm going to fuck you until you can think of nothing else but to get it again, over and over."

Pulling out as far as he could without moving away, Lucifer made good of his promise. He rammed into Sam hard, pushing him up on the bed, hard enough for Sam to try and steer clear of the headboard. He pressed his hands against it, making Lucifer moan at the sight. Lucifer thrust in again, his hands sliding up Sam's arms, until he grabbed Sam's wrists. 

"Like that," Lucifer growled. "All mine to use as I please." 

Sam didn't think he'd be aroused again so fast. "God, yes, please!" Lucifer's strength was more than reviving Sam's desire. It would take a little before he'd get hard, but his desire and want flared again at Lucifer's lewd words. 

Lucifer slammed in again, making the bed rattle. "You like that, baby, being all mine to take, mine to do with as I please?"

Sam's only answer was a desperate whine. Leave it to Lucifer to find his weak spot so soon. 

"Like it when I hold you down and fuck you, is that it?" Lucifer underlined each word with a hard, deep thrust into Sam's ass, every thrust sounding loud in the silence of the room; a dirty squelching sound of too much lube and too much need. Lucifer's fingers tightened around Sam's wrists. "Answer me."

Sam's ability to think was rapidly deteriorating. It was so good, so good to lose control. "Yes!" he panted, desperate for more. "Please!"

"I like it too," Lucifer admitted, his voice rough with arousal. "I like you all dirty and begging for cock. God, I'm going to fuck you good." 

Lucifer clearly took Sam's yes as a carte blanche to fuck Sam into oblivion. He moved back a bit, pulling Sam's arms behind his back, then began ramming into him with increasing strength, pounding Sam even deeper into the mattress, reaming his ass hard enough for Sam to see stars. Sam floated into a state of electrified bliss, each stroke across his prostate moving him closer to the impossible second orgasm. Lucifer's moans became louder and deeper; breathless, dark sounds that only served to make Sam even more aroused. 

Behind him Lucifer was working hard to bring them off, drops of sweat landing on Sam's back. "Fuck, baby, so good," Lucifer told him over and over, more and more tense for every thrust. 

Sam's orgasm took him by surprise, ripped from him by a particular hard thrust and Lucifer's violent pull of his arms. "Oh, damn," Sam gasped, frozen for a moment before he was consumed entirely by a pleasure so deep that he could have been engulfed in flames and not noticed. 

Lucifer, however, noticed everything. He paused, almost, tuning his hard thrusts into a languid gentle slide in and out of Sam, letting him ride the pleasure until he was done. "Still good to go?" Lucifer murmured, spreading soft kisses across Sam's back.

Sam was sore, but he'd never prevent Lucifer from finishing. He was done for, finished, but he needed Lucifer's release as much as he'd wanted his own. "Want to see you," he demanded, the urge to watch Lucifer in the throes of passion strangely bone-deep.

Lucifer didn't need more than that. "Turn over, baby." He pulled out, helping Sam turn over his orgasm-slack body. 

Sam didn't think he had it in him, but to be flipped over, his legs spread again, pushed up and opened, was still a turn-on. "More," he said, and Lucifer laughed a soft, pleased laughter.

"Anything you need." Lucifer grabbed his cock and pushed against Sam's dripping opening, sliding in again, languid thrusts this time. Lucifer was watching Sam's face from time to time, before he went back to look at the spot where they connected, obviously fascinated. "So fucking hot," Lucifer whispered. "One day I'll play with your hole for hours, making you cry from lust and need until you're willing to beg me on your knees."

Another surge of lust threatened to disturb Sam's bliss. Oh, he was willing. For this he was willing to beg any way Lucifer wanted. "Please," he managed, not sure what he was asking for - for _more_ or for reprieve. 

That one word slammed into Lucifer as hard as he had slammed into Sam earlier, Sam could see it in Lucifer's eyes, how the fire consumed him. He paused, then fucked hard into Sam a few times, gone entirely, drowning in the enraptured trance of his delayed orgasm, cock twitching and fingers fumbling for hold. Sam took mercy and braided his fingers with Lucifer's as if the light touch would guide him through the haze of pleasure. 

With closed eyes, kneeling between Sam's legs, it took a while before Lucifer had re-established his ability to speak. Almost. "Fuck," he said, maybe not ready to elaborate.

Sam laughed. "Oh yeah."

Lucifer opened his eyes for a second, long enough to move a bit to the left before he flopped down on the bed, limply, halfway across Sam's chest. "Fantastic." He raised a hand lazily, stroking Sam's cheek. "Gimme a minute, and I'll take care of you." 

Sam turned his cheek into the touch, reciprocating by caressing Lucifer's back. He felt so good, and the mere thought of having this again, to have more nights with Lucifer, made Sam sigh deeply. He was content, yet strangely elated.

He drifted into sleep, listening to Lucifer's slow breath and the low wheeze of the aircon. He woke up briefly when Lucifer left bed to return with a damp washcloth, wiping sweat and come off Sam's skin. Falling back into Lucifer's arms made Sam's last thought before sleep overtook him again one of happiness.

*

"Coffee, Sam!"

A delicious whiff of freshly-made coffee teased Sam into a semi-awake state. "-mmfp?"

"Black, no sugar, sausages and bacon on the side. Fried tomatoes too. And broccoli. Dean told me you liked it that way. When he was done glaring at me as if I'd seduced his little brother and made use of his body. I wonder how he got that idea."

"You're trying to buy your way into my good graces?" Sam murmured. "If you are, it's working. Gimme!" Sam decided it was too early to deal with Dean or anything that wasn't either food or Lucifer. Food he could handle, and he'd happily let Lucifer handle him — any which way he liked.

"See? I'm good when it comes to wooing. You're almost nice to me today." Lucifer sat down on the bed, a rattle of cups and silverware accompanying his descent to Sam's level. "Next time you'll be telling me you like me."

"Don't be an idiot," Sam told the pillow, too lazy to turn his head. "Of course I like you. You gave me the orgasm of my life, dude."

"Always wanted to be someone's pleasure toy," Lucifer dead-panned. "When do you want another? Orgasm, I mean. I'm at your service."

Sam grunted and turned over in a rustle of pillows and sheets. A pillow took a dive from the bed and Sam picked it up, wrapping his arms around it, as to protect himself, a shield between reality and the wonderful night had with Lucifer. "Is that supposed to be romantic? Because then you are not doing a very good job."

"I have to go." 

"And that's even worse." Sam fluffed the pillow and sat up. He took a deep breath before he said anything, really hoping it wasn't Lucifer's way to say _thank you, it was nice, goodbye_. He wanted to see Lucifer again, preferably soon. And not just because of the mind-blowing orgasm. "So..."

Lucifer laughed. "I swore to Michael and Gabriel that I would be there for lunch. Tradition. If I didn't know they'd kill me for not showing up, I'd stay here with you until Cas throws us out of bed." He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Sam's morning-breath-smelly mouth. "When's the next time NSA lets you out to play with the big boys? So... soon? You and me?"

"I—" Sam let out a relieved sigh. He was going to see Lucifer again. "Yes."

"Okay, I admit it. I _do_ suck at romance, and I... " Lucifer took Sam's hand. "I heard you the first time. All or nothing. No one-night stand, no _maybe_. It was a yes from me when I took you to bed, and it is still a yes. There is no way in hell I'm letting you go. So next time you have time? Date? Dinner? Hot shower sex after? Or before?"

"Both?" Sam shook his head. "There are so many things I want to know about you." He looked up, leaning in to kiss Lucifer again. "Promise me you'll be careful."

Lucifer smiled under Sam's lips. "NSA is never going to know. I swear it."

"You are keeping your hands off my network, baby."

"Not what I meant. They are never going to know that you're my boyfriend. Or that I'm yours."

"Again with the arrogance, _Trident_!" Sam kept in a small moan that threatened to reveal that it turned him on a little that the man he'd been hunting for so long now was his willing partner in bed, and since Lucifer was more than eager to pursue a relationship, outside it as well. "I will _own_ your ass if you even begin to think about trying again."

"Not much of a threat. When?"

"Saturday. My place. I trust you know the way around the Internet well enough to find my address all by yourself?"

"I think I can manage." Lucifer looked a little offended. He pouted. Sam found it adorable. Lucifer gave up the pouting and sent Sam a mischievous smile that seems to promise Sam a very interesting week-end.

Sam didn't try to hide his excitement. "Should I dress or undress for the occasion?"

"Dress. I'll undress you when I see fit to do so. We're getting out of town, baby, won't do to run into your lovely colleagues. And It is so much more fun if you are wearing stuff I can tear off, won't you say?" 

Sam laughed and made a small moan at the thought of Lucifer ripping off his clothes. Both their clothes. The battles they had fought had added a tension that Sam hoped would last; Lucifer was damned hot, on the web or off it: he looked forward to finding out, getting to know his formidable opponent, exploring the sides of him that were loving and gentle. A strange feeling of anticipation and happiness welled up inside him. He'd taken chances all his life, and not even NSA could stop him from taking this one. They'd have to be damned careful, but since they'd both made a living, keeping secrets safe, Sam decided that it only added more tension, another rush to the wonderful rush of falling in lust and love.

"Saturday, then. At six," Sam managed, once more lost in his lust for Lucifer. 

Lucifer nodded. His eyes were soft and longing. He stroked Sam's cheek. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away. And let me tell you I'm much more afraid of horses than I am of NSA and their lackeys." With another kiss pressed to Sam's mouth, Lucifer sighed, and got up with a look of regret. He sighed again, shook his head, and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. 

Sam leaned back into the pillows, missing Lucifer's company even before the sound of his steps had died down. The bed was warm and smelled of Lucifer and love-making. Sam pulled the comforter up around him and took the tray that Lucifer had left for him. Sam took a bite of the crisp bacon. It melted away in his mouth. Even that, cooking a great breakfast, Lucifer managed to perfection. He'd been lying when he said he couldn't cook. Sam drank some coffee and ate most of what Lucifer had brought him, not wanting the food to go to waste. Besides, it was far too delicious. Full and pleased with how the new year had begun, Sam's eyes drooped, and he gave up fighting his sex-sore body. He shuffled around, arranging the comforter and the pillows before he sank into them with a content groan. He could use a few more hours before he had to stand trial before Castiel and Dean.

Sam chuckled, eyes closed, half into the world of sexy, Lucifer-filled dreams already. There was no way around it: he had to keep Lucifer around for moral support because Dean would never, ever let him hear the end of it, this insane New Year's evening. And that was fine, all fine. 

Choosing between the prospect of _forever_ with Lucifer or decades of Dean's smug teasing, Sam wasn't in doubt which he preferred.


End file.
